


Keeping Tradition Alive

by Schnaucl (Onetrackmind)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-21
Updated: 2010-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 04:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/593364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onetrackmind/pseuds/Schnaucl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charlie and Ian become involved Charlie takes part in Ian's Christmas traditions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping Tradition Alive

“You’re absolutely _sure_ that’s going to fit?” Charlie asked skeptically.

Ian graced him with the same expression he always wore when Charlie questioned him on something in which he considered himself to be an expert. Charlie suppressed a grin. Ian had, of course, personally hunted and cut down the Christmas tree currently lashed to the top of the car. No Christmas tree lots for Ian, not even a U-Cut. Instead he’d secured the necessary permit to cut one from the forest.

He helped Ian untie the tree and let him carefully lower it from the roof and release its wrappings. There was no doubt about it, Ian had found a gorgeous tree. 

“I’ll need to cut a foot, foot and a half off the base, but that’s the only way to get the right fullness. “

“And you’re sure we can’t get an ar—“

Ian wagged his finger, playfully tapping Charlie on the nose. “Don’t even say it.”

Charlie grinned. An artificial tree might be easier, but he wouldn’t take away Ian’s pleasure at hunting for the perfect tree for the sake of efficiency. Besides, it was part of the Edgerton family tradition so now it was part of his tradition, too. 

“Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Nah, I got it, babe. Why don’t you make sure the lights for the tree work? And maybe open a beer for me?”

“Done.” He gave Ian a quick kiss, pausing just a moment to admire the wreath on the front door. The house already looked absolutely amazing at night. Ian was surprisingly creative with Christmas lights.

Charlie had initially been surprised that Ian was into Christmas at all given his utter lack of interest in non weapon possessions. He never would have predicted that he would be as deeply invested in the secular Christmas traditions as he was. But when Ian had explained that Christmas and the attendant traditions were important to mama Edgerton, well, everything made sense. Althea Edgerton was as formidable in her way as her son.

Charlie scrolled through the Christmas music on the family room iPod, trying to decide what to play. He’d only been celebrating Christmas for three years and sometimes he still felt a little overwhelmed. He finally settled Manheim Steamroller.

He was just finishing checking and repairing the lights when Ian brought the tree in. Soon the tree was securely in the stand and they were stringing lights. They chatted amicably and sometimes sang along to Christmas carols. Ian had a surprisingly good voice.

“You’re sure your parents don’t mind that we’re staying here this year?”

“Positive,” Ian said, picking up another strand of lights. But instead of getting back on the ladder he paused next to Charlie. “Mama always said when I had a family of my own I’d want to start my own traditions, and she was right.” He gave Charlie a soft, tender kiss. “And I like the idea of staying home with you on Christmas Eve and having brunch with Don and his family Christmas day. Can’t miss my niece’s first Christmas. Honestly, I think she’s really excited and happy that I have people to share all this with. This is what she’s always wanted for me. It’s what I’ve always wanted,” he said quietly.

Charlie impulsively wrapped his arms around Ian and held him tight. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, babe,” Ian said. He pressed a kiss to the top of Charlie’s head. “Besides, we’ll call them on Christmas and we’re seeing them next month. I thought I might ask Don and Robin if they could join us next year. Margaret is the closest thing they’re going to have to a grandchild and I think they’d like to be part of the Christmas celebration, at least some years.”

“I think that’s a great idea and I’m sure Don and Robin won’t mind. Your parents are family.”

“I like your definition of family.”

“Me too.”

It didn’t take long to finish up the lights. “Ready for the ornaments?” 

“Actually, my parents wanted us to open one of the presents first.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmmhm. Sit, I’ll go get it.”

Charlie took a seat on the couch and a moment later Ian returned with a beautifully wrapped medium sized box. “It’s fragile,” Ian warned, setting the box down in Charlie’s lap. He settled in next to Charlie and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “You open it.”

“It’s from your parents, shouldn’t you open it?”

“I already know what it is. Besides, I like watching you open things,” Ian said, pressing a kiss to Charlie’s temple.

Charlie gleefully tore into the wrapping to reveal a generic cardboard box. Ian handed him a knife to cut through the tape. Charlie lifted the lid and caught his breath. He recognized the ornaments instantly as ones that had been on the Edgerton family Christmas tree. Each ornament had an index card with a picture of the ornament and its history or story written in Mama Edgerton’s precise script. They were the same stories she’d told Charlie when he’d helped to hang the ornaments. There was the ornament Ian made in second grade, the ornament he’d made in woodshop in high school. Almost every major life event had been commemorated by some type of ornament. 

He belatedly realized there was a card. Inside the crème envelope was a beautiful enamel house ornament that looked remarkably like the Craftsman. The border of the ornament contained a banner that read _Ian & Charlie’s 1st Christmas at home_. The card read _Dear Ian and Charlie, I hope this helps start your own traditions. We love you both very much. XOXO Mama and Papa_

“See? I told you she was happy for us,” Ian said, kissing Charlie’s temple again. “And I’m under strict instructions to buy at least one ornament a year and include the history.”

“Ian, this is – amazing,” Charlie said, voice rough with emotion. “But we can’t take these from your parents. This is their history, too. You’re their son, surely they want to keep mementos.”

“They still have some special ornaments.” He slipped his hand around Charlie’s, linking their fingers together. “But this is for our family.”  
Charlie smiled and gave Ian a long, tender kiss. “I do love you.”

“I know.” He kissed Charlie one more time. “Should we put them on the tree?”

Charlie read the first card aloud, then handed Ian the ornament. He read every card before he handed over the ornament and listened attentively whenever Ian added his own comments. Sometimes he even added them to the card. “I think I like this. Reading all these every year.”

“Good.” Ian reached out and ruffled Charlie’s hair. 

At last all the ornaments were on the tree and the stockings Ian’s mama had knitted for them were hung over the hearth.

They stood looking at the tree, Charlie pressed against Ian’s side, Ian’s arm over his shoulders. “Now all we need is some snow,” Ian said.

Charlie smiled and leaned his head against Ian’s shoulder. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Merry Christmas, Charlie.”

* * *

Charlie struggled to get the heavy, awkward box in the door. “Hey, babe. I picked up the tree. I got it, you don’t have to get up. I’m afraid it’s not the one you would have chosen, but you were away and I can’t manage a huge tree all by myself. Besides, some people are allergic to pine and the sap gets everywhere, you know? Not to mention all the needles. I know you’re pretty beat so why don’t you just rest and I’ll decorate the tree this year,” he said, ignoring just how many ‘this years’ there had been.

He turned the Christmas music on low, just loud enough to cover the rhythmic hiss. It took a while to get the artificial tree out of the box and properly fluffed up but eventually he had it centered in the stand. It was pre-lit, so at least he didn’t have to deal with stringing the lights.

He opened the ornament box and read each card before he put the ornament on the tree. He started with the cards written by Ian’s mama, then turned his attention to the cards that Ian had written. Sometimes he went off on tangents of his own, one memory leading to another. Finally he started placing the ornaments whose cards he had written. These led to fewer extra stories than Ian’s had, although there were many more of them. When he ran out of those he placed the ornaments that were there for purely aesthetic reasons.

“So, Don and Robin invited us over tonight and for brunch tomorrow morning. I told them we were going to stay together tonight, and that you’re pretty tired and need to recover, but that I’d join them for brunch in the morning. That way you can have some private time, I know how you like that. God, can you believe Margaret is going to be in college next year? Seems like just yesterday she was a little baby. I think she’s looking to follow her dad and uncle into the family business. Don’s both proud and terrified, as you might imagine. Robin, too.

Daniel’s going to have to start looking next year. His grades are decent, but I think he’s looking for a baseball scholarship. He’s pretty good, might go farther than Don did. His stats are better, anyway. Mostly I think he wants Don to be proud of him, you know?” He had to pause while he retied a ribbon. 

“And little Ian’s doing well. He’s still interested in the sciences but he’s starting to get interested in politics, too. Assuming he keeps his grades up we might have a budding politicians on our hands. He’s certainly got the charisma for it. He’s going to be a killer with the ladies. Or the men.

Anyway, I’m looking forward to seeing them tomorrow. I’ll give you a full report when I get back.”

He finished up the tree and started arranging the presents underneath. A staticy voice broke through the Christmas music but Charlie ignored it. He’d mostly bought Ian clothes this year along with a few books they could read together. It was the same presents he’d bought for the last several years.  
He put some lights over the windows, continuing to chat about the insane crowds at the malls, trying to find the hot item on the kids’ lists, and helping Don had a few things at the Craftsman so they couldn’t be discovered by his wife or kids.

Charlie used a couple of thumbtacks to hang the stockings and then he was out of decorations. He swallowed and finally turned to face the bed. Even though he saw the same sight every day sometimes it hit him just as hard as that first time.

It wasn’t just that Ian was visibly older. They were all older. His body was emaciated, his once hard muscles atrophied from disuse. Ian had a physical therapist come in to exercise his body, of course, but his former physique couldn’t possibly be maintained except through active and frequent exercise that simply wasn’t possible for a man with almost no brain function. Ian, who had never seemed to be anything other than strong and formidable, even invincible, now just looked terribly frail. A mechanical respirator and intravenous feedings and fluids were the only thing keeping him alive.

Charlie sat down heavily on the stool next to Ian’s bed and gently picked up his fragile hand, holding it carefully between both of his hands. “I got you a bunch of clothes and books. I wasn’t sure what else to get.” He bit his bottom lip and forced himself to continue. “I’m sorry—I’m sorry I can’t give you what you really want – what you need.”  
He knew Ian never would have wanted this. Never would have wanted to be kept alive by machines while his body disintegrated. Most of all he knew Ian wouldn’t have wanted Charlie condemned to this terrible half life, tied to a man who could never be there for him, never share life’s joys and pains. Ian had explicitly said that wasn’t what he wanted. But he’d also given Charlie his power of attorney. 

Sometimes Don or Robin or even his niece or nephews would try and talk him into releasing Ian. They’d tried everything, reminding Charlie it wasn’t what Ian wanted, it wasn’t what he’d promised to do, and it wasn’t what he’d want if the situation were reversed. But for Charlie, half a life with Ian was better than no life at all.

“I’m sorry I’m not strong enough to let you go,” he whispered. He furiously blinked away tears, having long ago promised himself he wouldn’t cry in front of Ian. He swallowed and sat still until he could regain control of himself. He leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Ian’s forehead. “Merry Christmas, babe.”


End file.
